


Sex Ed For Your Asexual Angel

by Davechicken



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Asexual Relationship, Happily non-sexual but joking, M/M, Marked explicit because of the discussion, No offence meant to allos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-04
Updated: 2019-07-04
Packaged: 2020-06-03 21:00:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19472101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Davechicken/pseuds/Davechicken
Summary: Crowley watches A Video and thinks that sex is hilarious. Aziraphale agrees, but don't tell Crowley.





	Sex Ed For Your Asexual Angel

“ANGEL! ANGEL, WHERE ARE YOU?”

Aziraphale looked up from his chair with a particularly withering stare. “You know where I am, Crowley.”

“I am **fixed**.”

“You are?”

“Yes!” Crowley barged through the door, wearing – well. Just a bit more shine on his leathers. And something on his face that Aziraphale was sure they’d left in the past, where it belonged. “I’m a real boy, now.”

“...you are.” Clearly the demon was in one of Those Moods, which would outwardly exasperate, and secretly bemuse Aziraphale. He peered over the rims of his reading glasses. 

“Yes. I have seen a pornography and I am now cured.”

Oh, dear. It was a ‘role play’ again. Aziraphale remembered the last time, when Crowley had decided they should visit a Renaissance Fair across the pond and introduce actual period elements to some poor, unexpecting fools. The dysentery had only been temporary, but it had been enough. 

“I see.”

“Well. I’m a homosexual, so I’m still evil, according to your standards—“

“They are _not_ \--“

“So, I have come to seduce you!”

Crowley then stood in front of his desk as if he were one of good old Bill’s favourite actors. Legs akimbo, codpiece thrust in a rakish reminder of—

“Crowley. That’s... that’s a banana in your trousers.” 

“So?”

It quite clearly was. He could even see the shape of the stalk. 

“Humans do not have bananas for genitalia.”

“I never said I was _Human_. And anyway, the nice pornography went into extreme detail about how you apply the condom to the banana.”

Right. So he was feeling ornery as well as silly today. Aziraphale decided to play along, because... it did amuse him. “What do you intend to do with your... banana?”

“Ravish you.”

“And the end result being?”

“Then – then I fall asleep.”

Most of Crowley’s plans ended up with ‘then I fall asleep’. Big meals. Long nights drinking. Cuddling on the sofa. Aziraphale still couldn’t appreciate the concept for himself, but Crowley definitely enjoyed it, so he indulged him. Plus, when he was asleep, he couldn’t fake-grumble about his hair being stroked or his ear tips being kissed. 

“I see. And for me?”

“Well. The heteronormative video was mostly about how to prevent the antichrist who will then destroy your lives, but I don’t think we have that problem.”

“Technically we could.” Not with a banana. “But I agree, I’d rather not.”

“You don’t want to be the mother-father of my unborn children?”

“Perhaps we could get a cat, instead?”

That broke Crowley’s character for a moment, and he scowled over his sunglasses. “Cats defecate everywhere, especially on houseplants.”

“A hamster?”

“That’s even worse! You blink and they’re dead! It’ll be like that fairground goldfish you had me win for you, ‘without cheating, Crowley, or it won’t mean anything’.”

“I do not sound like that.”

“You _doooooo_. And you were grumpy for a whole decade after it died. And that was _after_ it miraculously survived three times its expected lifespan.”

“...I liked it.”

“You didn’t. It was boring. It just swam in a circle, and you were being stubborn and didn’t want me to say ‘I told you so’ so you pretended you liked it.”

It was true. It had been boring. Aziraphale preferred animals in their own demesne: far from him. 

“So,” the angel changed the subject back. “You intend to waste the – ah – fruit of your loins and spill your seed in barren ground?” 

“Fruit... heh.”

“Ahem?”

“Oh, right. Yes. I intend to Sodomise and Gomorrahise you, make you take the Lord’s name in vain, and then we will be a real couple.” Crowley thrust his groin some more.

“So the several hundred years have been---“

“Foreplay.”

Aziraphale wondered just how far Crowley was going to take this practical joke. It was making his lips fight a smile, but he couldn’t let him know how much he was laughing internally. They didn’t have the plumbing. They’d had The Talk many, many moons ago, and decided they didn’t feel it was worth the effort. Not considering how sweaty and silly it was. Had they been created with the drives and pre-work, perhaps it would have been different. But what they had was perfect for them.

(And occasionally lead to Crowley growling and performing minor curses on people who made lewd comments. Not because he didn’t want to be considered to be ‘with’ him, but more that they decided they should be carnal. Aziraphale secretly found it flattering that Crowley wanted to defend his non-honour so much.)

“Angel,” Crowley whined. “My banana is restless.”

“Your banana is an inert food-stuff.”

“It’s from tree-sex.”

“Yes. For the trees. Not for angels and demons. Except in delicious sundaes.”

“You want to _eat my dick_?!” It was both horrified and delighted and howled out in a far too dramatic voice.

“Well. Perhaps. With some brown sugar, or icecream.”

“Kinky.” He waggled his hips some more. “So... sex is off?”

“If you _insist_ , I will eat your banana. But I will not make suggestive faces when I do so. And then you will shave the furry slug from your face. It _chafes_.”

“Go on, then.” Crowley pulled the banana out, and tossed it over. “But when they ask, I did try to seduce you.”

“I’ll be sure to fill in the correct paperwork.” He started to deftly peel the skin back, and then – oh, why not – wrapped his lips suggestively around the exposed fruit... only to **chomp**.

Crowley’s wince said he could find some empathy for the non-banana males in the world. Aziraphale grinned, and looked not-so-innocently along the yellow shaft. Two could play at that game.

And later, of course, he could bemoan that Crowley had ravished him without due care and attention, and it would likely mean he would get the demon’s hands in his wings all night. That was much more enjoyable than body-warm fruit. 

“I knew you’d like it,” the demon crowed, and slunk off to shave. 

Chafing. Aziraphale hated to chafe.


End file.
